The Vanishing (The End of Time Chronicles Book 1)

by Heath Jannusch

  The End of Time Chronicles

  THE

  VANISHING

  By Heath & Sheila Jannusch

  PUBLISHED BY

  Heath & Sheila Jannusch

  Third Edition

  The Vanishing

  Copyright © 2012 by Heath & Sheila Jannusch

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the publisher. For more information please visit our website at…

  http://www.TheEndOfTimeChronicles.com

  Cover By Scott Headrick

  Edited By Natalie Romero

  We dedicate this story to the glory of God and give thanks for His unyielding love. Without His divine guidance and will, this story would never have been told.

  As the future unfolds, there are things foretold, which will come to pass. It isn’t a matter of if, but a matter of when …

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 - The Vanishing

  Chapter 2 - Flight of the Condor

  Chapter 3 - A Day like Any Other

  Chapter 4 - Cat and Mouse

  Chapter 5 - The City of Peace

  Chapter 6 - Sanctuary

  Chapter 7 - A Breath of Fresh Air

  Chapter 8 - Wicked Hangover

  Chapter 9 - Stranger on the Horizon

  Chapter 10 - Hang ’Em High

  Chapter 11 - Off the Reservation

  Chapter 12 - New in Town

  Chapter 13 - A Knight in Not-So-Shining Armor

  Chapter 14 - The Shady Lady

  Chapter 15 - The Big Muddy

  Chapter 16 - Refugees

  Chapter 17 - Ramblin Rose Café

  Chapter 18 - The Enlightened Ones

  Chapter 19 - Snowflake

  Chapter 20 - Cracked!!!

  Chapter 21 - The Drop

  Chapter 22 - Land of Enchantment

  Chapter 23 - “Dude, where’s my bag?”

  Chapter 24 - The Bluff

  Chapter 25 - Gifts from Above

  Chapter 26 -Sharing is Caring

  Chapter 27 - Fallen Angels

  Chapter 28 - Homecoming Party

  Chapter 29 - Love at First Sight

  Chapter 30 - Reunited

  Chapter 31 - A Roll in the Hay

  Chapter 32 - Chimaera Outbreak

  Chapter 33 - A Vision of the Truth

  Chapter 34 - Warnings of Giants

  Chapter 35 - Battle of Champions

  World War III

  Chapter 1 - First Strike (Sneak Preview ~ Book 2)

  Author’s Note

  The Vanishing

  The Vanishing – Day 1

  Chicago, Illinois

  Alexander Mancini glanced in the stolen car’s rear-view mirror, as he drove down highway seventeen, just south of Chicago. The flashing lights that had been following him finally disappeared onto a side road, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief. It had become dark earlier than usual and the full moon appeared abnormally large in the sky above. But it was the blood red color, more than the size that sent a shiver down his spine. It had been a very strange day from the beginning and he wasn’t taking any chances.

  Once again, Lex found himself in a predicament requiring his particular brand of skills. He knew he needed to get off the highway and out of sight as soon as possible; it was the first place they’d set up road blocks. Lex had been in and out of trouble from the young age of thirteen when he’d stolen his first car, and very little had changed since then.

  Up ahead on either side of the highway were barren corn fields covered in a blanket of snow. At the center of one of the fields Lex could see the porch of what was most likely a farmhouse. He instantly decided to see if the farmer would provide him with shelter until things cooled down. Turning right down a gravel road, he stopped in front of the narrow two-story house. Painted white with blue trim, the quaint little home had a white picket fence surrounding the yard. With any luck the Volkswagen Beetle wouldn’t be seen from the road. A mischievous smile slowly spread across his face.

  It’s perfect!

  Lex climbed out of the stolen car and closed the door behind him. Glancing down at his reflection in the driver-side window, he noticed several droplets of blood on his shirt lapel. He quickly concealed the drops by pulling the collar of his coat tight around his neck. Satisfied the stains were hidden, he walked toward the front porch. Fresh fallen snow crunched beneath his polished dress shoes, as the bitter cold chilled him to the bone.

  The old wooden boards creaked under Lex’s weight, as he slowly ascended the porch steps. He’d arrived just as a light sprinkle of snow began to fall from the grey clouds clustered above. Although the blinds to the house were drawn he could see light escaping through the cracks and heard sounds from a television within.

  Lex tightened his grip on the black leather briefcase, which he’d stolen earlier that day off the body of a dead man. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. From inside the house came the sound of feet shuffling as someone approached. After a brief moment of waiting, the door slowly creaked open, and there in the doorway stood a little old couple. Gazing up at Lex, they clung to one another as though a strong gust of wind might separate them.

  Lex immediately realized how out of place he must look, standing there in his dark grey suit, with briefcase in hand. His thick, sandy blonde hair was blowing wildly in the wind, as he pulled up his coat collar, in an effort to hide the blood stains on his shirt. For just a moment, the briefcase seemed heavier than before and his tongue felt dry. Turning on the charm, he smiled down at the old couple and cleared his throat before speaking.

  “Good afternoon folks,” he began, with a friendly grin, “my name is Baxter, Lex Baxter.”

  One of Lex’s many talents was the ability to manifest different personalities and identities at the drop of a hat. The name Baxter was one of his favorite aliases. This skill had aided him tremendously during his career as a con-man.

  “I apologize for intruding,” he continued, “but I’m having car trouble and, well, I was wondering if I might come in and use your phone?”

  “Oh you poor dear,” cried the old woman, as she let go of her husband’s arm and pushed him aside. “Come inside and warm yourself by our fire.”

  “Why thank you ma’am, that’s mighty kind of you.”

  As Lex stepped through the doorway he heard the crackle of a roaring fire coming from the living room and felt its welcoming warmth. The delicious aroma of freshly baked apple pie was so intoxicating, that he could almost taste it. He quickly scanned the house as he entered. It was old-fashioned, yet cozy and reminded him of his mother’s home.

  Struggling against the howling wind, the old man shut the door behind Lex and without saying a word, locked it. His eyes studied the visitor with the shrewd wisdom that comes only with age and experience. He was just as friendly as his wife but didn’t share her abundance of trust in strangers.

  “What are you doing out in these parts?” asked the little old lady. “In this weather you’ll catch your death if you’re not careful.”

  “Well,” Lex cleared his throat once again and began to spin a web of lies, “I’m a traveling insurance salesman. I was making some house calls when my car started acting strange. When the engine light came on I pulled over. I barely made it into your driveway before my car died on me. I need to call a tow truck if that’s alright? Do you know of a good one in the area? Of course I don’t want to impose on you in any way,” he winked a
t the little old lady who giggled in response, “and I’d be more than happy to pay for the use of your telephone.”

  Glancing around, Lex noticed a cross hanging on the wall near the entrance. In the living room he observed a worn-out Bible lying open on the coffee table. This gave him an idea and he quickly added to his lie, “I was praying that God would guide me to some good Christian folks.”

  “Oh now did you hear that, he’s a Christian!” exclaimed the old woman, without giving her husband a chance to respond. “Of course you’re welcome! You can stay as long as you need Mr. Baxter. Any follower of the Lord is a friend of ours.”

  “Why thank you ma’am! That’s mighty decent of you and please, call me Lex,” he said, casting another wink in the old woman’s direction. His voice was smooth as silk and just as convincing.

  “Oh,” she blushed, “my name is Dorothy O’Malley and this is my husband John.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” smiled Lex, offering his hand to John, who slowly reached out and shook it. With the same charming smile Lex kissed Dorothy’s hand and slightly bowed. As predicted, this sent Dorothy into a shiver of giggles, her face turning a darker shade of crimson.

  “How rude of me!” she said, after Lex let go of her hand. “Have you eaten? You must be starving! John, take the young man’s wet jacket and show him to the fireplace. We’ve already eaten, Mr. Baxter, but I’ll go and heat something up for you.”

  “Thank you once again ma’am, your hospitality is greatly appreciated.”

  Lex followed John into the living room, where a fire burned warm and bright. The old man extended his hand to take Lex’s coat so that he could hang it by the fireplace to dry. But Lex politely refused the offer, not wanting to expose the blood stains on his shirt. He also held tight to the briefcase in his hand, keeping it close. The old man seemed to notice this but kept it to himself.

  “Make yourself comfortable,” croaked John, in a gruff and raspy voice.

  Lex did as instructed and sat down on the couch. “May I?” he asked, picking up the remote control to the television.

  “Sure,” answered John, a frown forming at the corners of his mouth.

  Lex quickly began flipping through the channels, searching for any news on the bodies he’d left behind in the alley. But much to his surprise none of the stations were covering the story. Instead, many were featuring reports on some type of conflict happening in Israel. After scanning through all of the channels in vein, he returned the television to its original station.

  John sat down in a chair next to Lex and studied his mysterious guest in silence. After a brief moment he asked, “What were you looking for?”

  “Oh nothing,” lied Lex. He nodded toward the football game on the television and asked, “Who’s playing?” He was hoping to change the subject, maybe distract the old man with the game.

  “The Bears and the Jets,” answered John. “It’s fortunate for you that your car died right at our doorstep.” The old man had no intention of being distracted.

  “Just lucky I suppose,” replied Lex, “and of course the good Lord’s grace.”

  “You look awfully attached to that briefcase of yours,” continued John, unsatisfied with the first answer. “Why is it so important to you?”

  Lex was surprised. The old man had no problem asking direct and pointed questions. He wasn’t used to coming across someone who was willing to confront him like this, yet it was a welcome challenge. Most folks these days didn’t care about anything except television and sports. People usually believed anything that Lex said no matter how ridiculous, as long as he said it with confidence.

  “Oh, just my work papers and some personal items,” answered Lex, wondering if that would be the end of it.

  “Um-hum,” grunted the old man in disbelief. “Exactly what’s wrong with your car young man?”

  John wasn’t going to give up until he knew why this stranger was sitting in his living room. There was something about Lex that he didn’t trust. He was hoping that Dorothy would take awhile in preparing the food. At least long enough to give him a chance to find out the truth.

  “Well, I’m not sure…”

  “Of course he doesn’t know what’s wrong with his car,” interrupted Dorothy, returning from the kitchen with a large plate of food and a tall glass of lemonade. “He’s a traveling insurance salesman John, not a mechanic. Oh,” she said, noticing the game on television, “I see you’re watching the game. I just love football, don’t you?”

  “Oh yes,” said Lex, pretending to be interested while accepting the plate of food graciously. He ate without talking while watching the football game. The second half had just started and the Jets had the ball. The quarterback took the snap and dropped back to pass, the crowd going wild.

  Lex hadn’t had a home cooked meal in years and he’d been missing it. The pot roast was deliciously tender and smothered in brown gravy. The corn on-the-cob tasted sweet and juicy, and the mashed potatoes were smooth and creamy, just like his mother used to make. Even the dinner rolls were warm and soft, as though they’d come fresh out of the oven. Dorothy sat on the couch next to him and watched with satisfaction, as Lex consumed the scrumptious meal that she’d prepared.

  Suddenly, the ground beneath them began to shake. Lex, glancing at the game, noticed that the walls of the football stadium were trembling as well. Most of the players and fans were looking around frantically. Some however appeared in awe, gazing up at the sky with the most amazing smiles on their faces. Lex marveled at how peaceful and content they appeared. He couldn’t imagine what they were looking at, or thinking about, to be so calm during an earthquake. A bright light flashed throughout the living room and was gone in the twinkle of an eye. Lex could still feel the warmth from the light on his skin even after it was gone.

  In an instant, seven of the eleven Jets’ offensive players on the field vanished into thin air. Their helmets, pads and jerseys lay crumpled on the field. Three of the Bears defensive players were also missing. The football rocked back and forth on the ground where the missing quarterback had been standing, but the whistle had yet to be blown. The remaining players just stood there motionless and in shock, as the earth continued to tremble beneath them. The television station suddenly went black and the program was interrupted by a national broadcast alert.

  “This is the National Emergency Broadcast System, this is NOT a test, we repeat; this is NOT a test. Thousands of meteors are about to enter our atmosphere and will be raining down on us in moments. The meteors range in size from that of a baseball to that of a house. All citizens are advised to stop what you’re doing and take cover in any way possible…”

  The television broadcasted about three or four seconds of the national warning before it suddenly powered off, along with all of the lights in the house. Lex quickly turned to the old couple to ask if they had a storm shelter but before he could form the words, his mouth dropped open in disbelief. The O’Malley’s had vanished! The room was empty.

  What…? Where…? How in the…?

  Lex had been able to see the only exit to the living room the entire time, there was no way they could’ve left without him noticing. Trying to remain calm, he set down his plate on the coffee table and slowly stood up, careful not to fall. The floorboards beneath his feet creaked and moaned, as everything around him continued to shake violently. Framed pictures fell from the quivering walls and crashed to the floor in shards of broken glass. On the couch next to him were Dorothy’s clothes, apron and all. John’s clothing was also left behind, crumpled in the chair where he’d been sitting.

  “What in the hell is going on?” exclaimed Lex, horrified by the spectacle before him.

  He grabbed the black briefcase and ran from the house. Outside the wind was howling as though there were a hundred tornadoes touching down all at once. As Lex descended the steps of the porch he tried his cell phone, but it wouldn’t turn on. He quickly ran to the stolen Volkswagen and climbed in. He tried to start the
engine but it just made a clicking sound. The headlights wouldn’t even turn on. His lie about the car dying had now become a reality.

  Well that figures.

  Lex climbed back out of the car and frantically looked around, trying to process what was happening. Nothing made any sense. From behind the house, he heard a dog barking loudly. He swiftly turned and ran around the house toward the sound, hoping to find people with the dog. Running across the yard he glanced up toward the sky and felt his heart skip a beat. Thousands of large fireballs streaked down from space toward earth.

  “Oh my God!” hissed Lex, almost tripping over his own feet.

  Rounding the house, he skidded to a stop beside a German Shepherd, standing alone in the backyard. She obviously belonged to the O’Malley’s. Her collar was tied to a long chain attached to a stake in the earth. The dog stood her ground, despite the hail of fireballs falling down from the sky. Her head held high, she defiantly barked up at the heavens.

  Lex admired the dog’s courage, as he fought to free her from her restraints. Finally after a moment of struggle, he was able to unhook the chain from the dog’s collar. She immediately began licking his face in appreciation. From the corner of his eye, Lex saw a storm shelter, as light from a passing meteor, reflected off the metal door.

  “Come on!” he shouted to the dog amidst the explosions.

  Holding the briefcase tight in one hand and the dog’s collar in the other, Lex crouched and ran toward the shelter. Each step was full of anticipation that at any moment a fireball might strike him from above. They reached the storm shelter just in time for Lex to see a small meteor smash into the yellow Volkswagen, hurtling it thirty feet into the air in a fiery explosion.

  Easy come, easy go.

  Lex cursed as he closed the doors to the storm shelter and descended the steps, following the dog into the dark cellar below. The sounds from above could only be described as horrific. The ground continued to quiver, in what must be the worst earthquake ever. Each ear shattering explosion sent chills down Lex’s spine, as the world above was torn apart by thousands of meteors impacting the earth.